Books – My Second Running Life

Thoughts on Decline

I think about my own mortality a lot. Perhaps too much. Sometimes a trivial observation will send my mind down that track—like when I’m walking down a busy street, and I realize that I’m older than almost all the people I see.

Given my personal health story, thoughts of my humanness are perhaps more present than they were when I was young and, as the saying goes, invincible. I’ve experienced a significant decline, one that goes beyond “aging”, although a growing count of orbits around the sun means I’m experiencing that type of decline as well. Apparently, aging occurs in both a stepwise and linear fashion, and the decades of our 40s and 60s are where the biggest steps occur. I think I can attest. And of course, I know how the story will end.

But then, sometimes, the most amazing things happen, things that make me celebrate my situation, my very obvious mortality. Things like today’s run¹, in which I reluctantly took on Calgary’s arctic conditions, and returned home somehow feeling 20 years younger. It was a wonderful outing, easily my best run in a month, and one that made me feel truly alive. You may know the feeling— it’s like history being made, even if the run itself counted for nothing.

My recent reading list includes several books that deal with decline and death, and that may explain my focus on the subject. While this piece doesn’t offer any great insights, I generally find it easiest to deal with things by writing. So here goes, with a decidedly unfestive, but hopefully not depressing, piece.

Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande

Being Mortal, by surgeon and author Atul Gawande, was suggested to me by a friend. We were both dealing with parents in their declining years—in fact, my mother had died just a few weeks before. I sat on his recommendation for a while, perhaps because I was afraid to open the book. I’m glad I eventually did.

Gawande describes how modern medical intervention has changed the profile of physical decline, essentially blurring the transition from life to death. While sobering, the book makes the point that our societal approach to medicine is often not suited to the needs of people nearing the end of life.

Gawande argues that the role of the medical establishment should not be to ensure survival at all costs. He would rather see the system as enabling well-being, however a person (the patient) might define it. He presents numerous examples of human decline, not all of which are age-related, to support his contention that the best action at any time may be palliative, rather than interventional.

I finished Being Mortal with a feeling of anxiety. I suppose the book confirmed what I already knew, that the circumstances of my own demise are likely to be unknown to me. I looked back over the ever-growing list of people I’ve known who have died. The full gamut of difficult human experience is there for my contemplation.

My takeaways? I should ensure that those around me are aware of my wishes at the end of my life, and to the extent possible, stay involved in the process.

Running with the Pack, by Mark Rowlands

Running with the Pack, by philosopher and University of Miami professor Mark Rowlands, is a book I discovered during the formative stages of my research for Stroke of Luck. The challenge I faced at the time was to understand my long personal connection with running at a deeper level. The evidence clearly demonstrated a connection, but I was grappling with a version of that most fundamental philosophical question: “What is the meaning of life?”

Rowlands’ unique book helped me organize my thoughts. I appreciated his ability to parse philosophical discourse into manageable pieces. Better still was his framing of mini-lectures around his own running. (And his dogs, which play a major role in his life.) While the answers remain as elusive as ever, I certainly relate to Rowlands’ thought process.

I wanted to see what Rowlands had to say about decline. In fact, he says a lot. He observes that philosophers have tended to be less interested in decline, even though for human beings it is an inevitable aspect of living. Using the example of running injuries, Rowlands explains why there really is no escaping our decline, given our evolution as mammals and our physiology.

So, what are we to do? Rowlands would have us look to young children and animals, especially dogs. These beings instinctively know what is important in life—the things that bring joy, the things that are worth doing for their own sake. Things like, you guessed it, running. The highlight of Rowlands’ book is his explanation of the “intrinsic value” of running; the idea that when we are immersed in a run, we experience it for its own sake. We find joy in an activity that has no instrumental value.

This line of thinking was hugely beneficial to my own assessment of running and its importance to me. As Rowlands says, “youth exists whenever action has become play”. That may explain why today’s run made me feel 20 years younger—it was pure joy to be outside and in control. In a small way, it was a statement of defiance against my own decline.

The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy

The Death of Ivan Ilyich is a short work by Leo Tolstoy, written in 1886. It tells the story of the demise of a prominent and successful bureaucrat from an unspecified affliction, or possibly the result of a seemingly insignificant fall while doing a home renovation project. (Aside: I must remember to point out to Deb how dangerous these activities can be!)

Whatever the cause, Ivan’s death is slow and painful, both physically and emotionally. His illness highlights many themes that remain relevant today. First is the superficial nature of Ivan’s relationships with his family and friends. Those close to him are too absorbed in their own affairs to understand what he is going through, much less feel any empathy for him. Quite the opposite. His suffering proves to be an inconvenience to his socially conscious wife and an opportunity for his rivals at work.

Second, it’s a story about the role of medicine. The medical care offered to Ivan is inept and, worse, insensitive. As readers, it’s tempting to look at Ivan’s situation with full awareness of the miracles that modern medicine could have offered him. However, after having read Being Mortal, I realized that Ivan faced the same issues we face today. Are today’s invasive interventions any more humanistic than those of Ivan’s callous doctor? Medicine shouldn’t be about the miracles that science can offer, but whether and when the tools at hand should be used at all.

What does it all mean?

I’ve highlighted three books that allowed me to think about decline from new and different perspectives. The books could not be more different. This is a subject where it is worthwhile considering as many viewpoints as possible. For that reason alone, I recommend all three books. Read together, they complement each other well.

It seems the best course of action is to be prepared for my own decline by knowing how I define living. That will inform any difficult conversations with family and friends, as we face decisions about the type and extent of medical intervention I am ultimately willing to endure. Until then, I should seek joy as I’ve always done—by going for a run!

I hope 2026 is good for you and yours. Remember, BE FAST!

I wrote this piece in mid-December, during a long cold snap. I decided to sit on it for a while, realizing that it would have been a downer during the festive season. Now, here we are, well into the new year and in the middle of another cold snap, so I decided it was time to hit the “publish” button. SK ↩︎

An Important Visit With CHF

I had the pleasure of dropping into the Calgary Health Foundation office today. The purpose of my visit was to present CHF with a donation cheque, on behalf of everyone who has supported my Stroke of Luck book project.

When I first considered writing a book about my stroke journey, it was a daunting prospect. I was indebted to the doctors, nurses and staff at the Foothills Medical Centre, Unit 100 (“the Stroke Unit“) for their care during my stroke journey. As a grateful patient, it was ultimately an easy decision to go ahead with the project, once I realized that my book could be a platform for helping them in their invaluable work.

I’ve committed to sharing with the Stroke Unit proceeds from book sales, plus all other direct donations I receive. With the help of Laurel Williams (Philanthropy Advisor) and Ashley Oakley (Communications Advisor), these funds will go directly toward the ongoing needs of the Stroke Unit. It’s the least I can do.

Thanks again to all who have bought the book or have contributed to the cause. Your support is greatly appreciated!

With Laurel Williams, CHF Philanthropy Advisor, March 2025 (Photo by Ashley Oakley)

While I’m writing, I will take the opportunity to remind my readers about my three main messages:

The importance of an active lifestyle
Awareness of ALL the symptoms of stroke, and of course…
Raising funds to support the great work being done every day on stroke prevention and care at the Foothills Medical Centre’s Stroke Unit

Finally, if you have not already read the story that Ashley wrote about my stroke journey, you can find it here.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

February Sale – Time is Running Out!

February is Heart Month in Canada, and to mark the event, online purchases of Stroke of Luck: My Life in Amateur Athletics enjoy a healthy 20% discount. But act fast, the month… and the sale… are nearly done. Order your copy today on Amazon!

Did You Know?

We all know that February is the shortest month, at 28 (or 29) days, not the usual 30 or 31. But do you know how this came to be?

We have to go back to the Roman calendar, which divided the year into ten (not twelve) months, from March to December. These months were either 29 or 31 days, not 30, because the Romans considered even numbers to be unlucky. The early part of the year was not even named.

The second king of Rome, Numa Pompilius (ca. 753-652 BC) reformed the Roman calendar and introduced the months we know as January and February. However, it would have been problematic for these new months to have either 29 or 31 days. Why? Because the total number of days for the year (that is, the product of 12 odd-numbered months) would have ended up as an even number, not the required 365.

So, February was adjusted to make the annual math work. A couple of reasons are cited for this decision. The name itself comes from the Roman festival of purification, ‘februa’, which occurred at that time of the year. It was also the time when people mourned the departed. These factors led to February being the month that was shortened to 28 days.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Remembering Jerome Drayton

Recently, I wrote a piece about several of my sporting heroes. To keep the piece to a reasonable length, I didn’t comment on another man who had certainly earned a place on my list. In fact, he had been one of my personal heroes for years. That man is Jerome Drayton. In light of his sudden passing on February 10 at the age of 80, I’m regretting that decision. It seems appropriate to talk about him now, and the impact he had on me.

Much has been written about Drayton. His personal story is one of strength and resilience. He was born in Germany to Russian-Ukranian parents, just as the war was coming to an end. His parents divorced, and he emigrated to Canada with his mother in 1956. His name at birth was Peter Buniak, and while we hear various reasons for his change of name, it was clearly his way of putting distance between his past in Europe and his future life in Canada.

He started running in high school in Toronto and found early success. More accurately, he earned it. His results speak volumes about his work ethic. I can start with his astounding mileage totals. He was a pure amateur, doing 200-mile weeks while working full-time. Mere mortals struggle to reach a quarter of that.

While I was discovering athletics in the mid-1970s, Drayton was already in the top echelon of the sport. I never met him, but I followed his exploits closely. Here’s some of what I wrote about him in Stroke of Luck:

“Coincidentally, the world around us was discovering running at the same time we were. The mid- to late-1970s marked the beginning of what is now called the running boom. Frank Shorter’s win in the 1972 Olympic Marathon for the United States is often cited as the beginning of the boom, but I wonder how strongly that event resonated in Canada. If we were following any world class distance runners, it was more likely to be the top Canadian, Jerome Drayton, or even some of the top British runners like Ron Hill, rather than the celebrated American.”

Drayton’s running resume is stellar. In an era when distance running was still seen as a fringe sport, Drayton fit the stereotype of the lone, somewhat aloof, character. Obituaries and tributes describe his single-mindedness and determination.

In my book, I described Drayton as an enigma, given his preference for running in dark aviator shades and a tendency to front-run against his toughest competitors. Perhaps fitting that persona, Drayton never seemed to say much. He let his running speak for itself.

Consider this: long before Boston assumed the title of “world’s premier marathon”, the Fukuoka Marathon in Japan was at the pinnacle of the sport. Entry was by invitation only. Drayton won it, THREE TIMES, in 1969, 1975 and 1976. What about Boston? Well, he won that too, in 1977. He was the last Canadian man to do so.

Drayton in the 1976 Fukuoka Marathon (Photo from Canadian Running, 2013)

Speaking of Boston, I suppose we could add “irascible” to the list of words describing Drayton. Apparently, he wasn’t the most gracious winner. Rather, he took the opportunity to point out that he had just about been mugged in the early going, and that his victory had nearly been sabotaged by the lack of water stations. Hearing this story only made me admire him more. Any of us who have run the race can thank Drayton for dragging the BAA into the modern era.

I have to mention the most durable of Drayton’s achievements, his Canadian marathon record. He set the record (2:10:08) in the 1975 Fukuoka Marathon, and it stood for an incredible 43 years until Cam Levins broke it in the 2018 Toronto Waterfront Marathon.

There was a Hamilton connection too, which cemented Drayton’s place as one of my running heroes. Here’s another passage from my book, where I talked about his victories in the Around the Bay Race:

“The history of the Boston Marathon is intertwined with that other famous race, Hamilton’s own Around the Bay Race. Both races were first contested in the 1890s. Many icons of distance running, including some legendary Canadians, had competed in both events. The lists of past winners in Boston and Hamilton include many names that I recognized, even idolized. There was Jerome Drayton, the top Canadian marathoner, the national marathon record holder, and the 1977 Boston winner. He was also a two-time winner of the Bay Race, in 1973 and 1974.”

Drayton, alone in the lead at ATB (Photo from Hamilton Archives)

In the 1970s, finding any athletics news at all was tough. I scoured a lot of newspapers. Despite the sport’s relatively low profile, Drayton stood tall. His star shone brightly until his retirement in the early 1980s. When his racing days were behind him, Drayton was a reclusive role model. He appeared from time to time in interviews… this one in Canadian Running Magazine from 2009 is excellent… and when his Canadian record was finally beaten, he was gracious. He expressed surprise that it had taken so long.

In his later years, Drayton took on advisory roles with government sports agencies. He shunned publicity and lived a modest life in Toronto. Some stories mentioned his struggles with arthritis, which may have contributed to his unexpected death. The news reports I’ve read suggest his death came during knee surgery. Sadly ironic, for a man whose legs had carried him to the top of the marathon world half a century earlier.

Jerome Drayton was a true sporting legend, whose place in Canadian sporting history won’t easily be matched.

Until next time, be well and (emulating Drayton) BE FAST!

February News Roundup – UPDATED

This is a short post, with the latest news. I’ve been busy compiling and editing photographs for my new BUMP Photo Run series. If you aren’t familiar with BUMP, it’s the Beltline Urban Mural Project, a vibrant project that has been brightening up our city since 2017. Check out my first piece here. You can read about the background of the project while enjoying photographs of some amazing art. Look for more posts very soon!

Canmore Public Library Event, Feb 12

UPDATED!

It was a wonderful evening in Canmore. The venue in Elevation Place was beautiful, we had a great turnout for our talk and an engaged audience. What more could we ask for?

Thanks to my friend, Don Crowe, for taking on MC duties, to Carey Lees of the Canmore Public Library for her flawless organization, and to all who attended. Thanks too, to Kylie and Tim at Strides Canmore, for their generous support of this event!

Here’s a synopsis of the talk:

A brief personal introduction
A collage of my running adventures (see below)
Discussion of my stroke journey, including the useful phrase to remember stroke symptoms (readers of this blog will already be familiar with BE FAST)

Of course, I shared my three main messages, listed below:

The importance of an active lifestyle
Awareness of ALL the symptoms of stroke
Raising funds to support the great work being done every day on stroke prevention and care at the Foothills Stroke Unit

This is what 50 years of running memories look like on one page!

You can read all the details in Stroke of Luck: My Life in Amateur Athletics. And there’s some news on that front: Cafe Books in Canmore will be carrying the book. So, if you live in Canmore, please drop into this unique bookstore and grab your copy!

For anyone in the Canmore area this Wednesday (February 12), I’ll be speaking at an Author Event at the Canmore Public Library at 6:30 p.m. Join me if you can, for an informal (and informative) presentation of my story, as told in Stroke of Luck: My Life in Amateur Athletics. There will be a short presentation, a Q&A session, and some draw prizes. I’ll have copies of the book available for purchase, at a special event price. Proceeds from book sales support the great work being done every day in the Foothills Stroke Unit.

I’d like to thank the staff at the library for hosting us in your wonderful facility. Also, to my friends at Strides Canmore, thank you for spreading the word about this event, and for your ongoing support of my book project. I feel blessed to be part of the tremendous local running community… it’s second to none!

Finally, thanks to Dianne Deans, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at the CanStroke Congress in November. Dianne is an enthusiastic patient support volunteer for stroke victims at the Foothills Medical Centre. She kindly connected me with the Canmore library staff, which led to this event coming together. Thank you, Dianne!

Heart Month Sale Still On!

What better way to mark Heart Month than a healthy discount for online sales of Stroke of Luck?

Order your copy on Amazon, and save 20%. The sale will run through the end of February.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

“So It Goes”

Anyone who has read Slaughterhouse-Five (SH5) by Kurt Vonnegut will recognize this phrase. It stays with you after reading the most famous (or is it infamous?) and arguably the most representative of Vonnegut’s novels.

I’m not sure if SH5 is still required reading in high school English courses… I know it used to be. (I’d be reluctant to guess what required reading might be in high school these days, but that’s another topic.) For my part, I missed the opportunity to read SH5 when I was in school. Perhaps the book wasn’t considered appropriate fare for a Catholic school curriculum.

I’ve only come around to Vonnegut’s works in the last few years. I did read Galapagos in my early twenties, but I found it to be quite forgettable… it certainly didn’t convince me to read anything more by him. Maybe I wasn’t ready for the author’s unique style and keen critical eye.

Something must have changed, because I’ve read three of his books in rapid succession. In this post, I offer my thoughts on what may be his best-known novels. My comments are organized in my order of reading, which just happened to be in reverse order of their publishing date.

Kurt Vonnegut

The author of the books I’m going to discuss is worthy of some discussion himself. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1922-2007) was born in Indianapolis, to German immigrants. He attended Cornell University but dropped out in 1943 after being placed on academic probation. He enlisted in the US Army and was deployed to Europe in 1944 as an intelligence scout. After the war, he pursued academic and technical career paths, never quite succeeding at anything. Vonnegut had a couple of stories published in the early 1950s, which persuaded him to give up other opportunities to pursue writing full-time. His success as a writer did not happen overnight.

Slaughterhouse-Five (1969)

It’s a challenge to summarize SH5. At its core, the story is an account of the Allied fire-bombing of Dresden, Germany in the final months of the Second World War. What genre is the book? Good question. There is an element of historical fiction, but it could just as easily be classified as science fiction. Given that the book was influenced by Vonnegut’s time in the US military, we could even label it as a biography. The author was captured by the Germans, and as a POW he witnessed the destruction of the city firsthand.

In Vonnegut’s signature style, there is a sharp satirical edge to the book. Vonnegut makes no secret of his disdain for “military intelligence”. The casual disregard for life in wartime is a theme repeated often in the book… almost sickeningly so. I think that’s exactly the response Vonnegut wants to elicit from us. That’s where the phrase “so it goes” comes from. SH5 was published at the height of the anti-war movement in the US, and it was the book that made Vonnegut a household name.

The main character in SH5 is Billy Pilgrim, a US draftee. The science fiction element to the story is that Pilgrim experiences time travel. He calls it coming “unstuck in time.” I think the message here is that history is bound to repeat itself. I found this to be a very effective tool; one that shows Vonnegut exercising his full prowess as a mature storyteller.

To summarize, I thought SH5 was brilliant. An amazing creative piece… forceful in its social commentary and totally original. Considering the current events in the world, it is as timely now as when it was written. Very highly recommended!

Cat’s Cradle (1960)

Where to begin in explaining this novel?

Cat’s Cradle is a first-person account of the narrator, Jonah, who travels to San Lorenzo, a fictitious and extremely poor island nation. Through an unbelievable sequence of events, Jonah becomes president of the country. At the subsequent inauguration ceremony, an unfortunate incident results in mass destruction on a global scale, when a material called “ice-nine” accidentally comes into contact with seawater.

The book deals with two important themes and manages to touch on several others besides. One major subplot in the book is a fictitious, hedonistic religion called Bokonism. It is the dominant religion in San Lorenzo, seemingly a response by the poor citizens of the country to their dire socioeconomic circumstances.

The book is also a biting commentary on the risks of technology. Ice-nine was invented for military purposes by a brilliant scientist who has complete and callous indifference to the great risks it poses. The obvious parallel is to the proliferation of nuclear weapons, which would have been in Vonnegut’s mind when he wrote Cat’s Cradle in 1960. The story takes the idea of a manmade technological threat to its logical and tragic conclusion.

Only someone with a vivid imagination, black humour and a gift for sharp insight… someone like Vonnegut… could have created Cat’s Cradle. It was a fascinating read, and like SH5, very relevant to the unstable world we find ourselves in.

Player Piano (1952)

Player Piano was Vonnegut’s first novel. It tells the story of Paul Proteus, an engineer and manager of the Ilium Works, one of many large industrial complexes that have radically revamped American society. Machines have replaced human beings in every facet of life. For his part, Proteus becomes increasingly uncomfortable as he is being groomed for an expanded role in the system he helped create. The story turns on a clever “double agent” plot, as Proteus finds himself aligned with other, like-minded rebels.

As compared to the other novels, I found the storyline in Player Piano to be the least risky… maybe even simplistic. There are no tricks with time travel here. I suspect Vonnegut was still finding his voice and his style when he wrote the book. Even so, it is a well-constructed story of an all-too-possible dystopian future. Such a future may have been easy to imagine in the early 1950s, as post-war innovations began to change American society; at least it was for Vonnegut.

Of the three novels, Player Piano had the most impact on me. I accept that as a result of my own work as an engineer and manager. Did my career path make me more sensitive to the sharp commentary that Vonnegut dishes out for these vocations in his grim novel? Probably. I don’t take any of it personally, but I do relate to his criticism of an unbridled drive for efficiency.

The world Vonnegut imagines in Player Piano is devoid of almost all pleasure, at least for the average citizen. For the elite (that is to say, the politically savvy) the upside is limitless, as long as the growing majority of displaced citizens are kept notionally busy and marginally employed. It’s a novel that heads to an inevitable tipping point.

The fatal flaw exposed in Player Piano is a conflation of an unstoppable quest for perfection (in countless industrial processes and even in human interactions) with human happiness. I found myself making connections to recent opinion pieces that assess the risks of the increasing use of Artificial Intelligence in our society. Again, Vonnegut’s story seems eerily relevant to our current circumstances.

I can recommend all three of these Vonnegut novels. In my view, his social commentary is timeless, and that keeps the books current. I want to continue my exploration of his work, to see how well his insights have held up in other areas.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!